The Meme Generation


  1. Spoilers for a film from 2008

    indefensible:

    A lot of people like to shit on M Night Shyamalans’s films but I think he gets very tough press. Sure, his films operate under weird conceits, but people spend too much time thinking about the conceit and not enough time thinking about the result of living in a world where that conceit is reality.

    Specifically, “The Happening” was widely shat upon for its depiction of a world where nature got sick of humanity and plants begin to emit a neurotoxin that makes people commit suicide.

    Ho Ho. Killer trees!

    But to me that film was almost relentlessly nauseating for its depiction of a reality where nobody could trust their brains. The source of the contagion is ultimately unimportant, but the idea of a suicide epidemic is something I don’t think I’ll ever get over.

    But, hey, I liked “Signs”, too.

    Agreed.

    While many of his films have a moment (or sometimes even an entire concept) that forces the viewer to utter “Oh, come ON,” I think the central themes are strong.

    As for feedback specific to “The Happening”, I think it’s incongruous, if not disingenuous, for a world infatuated with zombies that are relentless in trying to kill you to not find any terror in people who are relentless in trying to kill themselves.

  2. morrowplanet:

It’s my birthday (yay!). I want you to do something, but not for me. 
I’d love it if together we could wipe out a single mother’s need TODAY.
I’ve seen this community work some little miracles, and maybe we can harness another. 
Please consider a donation to Small Can Be Big, and help a deserving family get back on their feet. It would mean a lot to me.

Done. Happy birthday, Morrow.

Can you help, too?

    morrowplanet:

    It’s my birthday (yay!). I want you to do something, but not for me. 

    I’d love it if together we could wipe out a single mother’s need TODAY.

    I’ve seen this community work some little miracles, and maybe we can harness another

    Please consider a donation to Small Can Be Big, and help a deserving family get back on their feet. It would mean a lot to me.

    Done. Happy birthday, Morrow.

    Can you help, too?

  3. GWAR covers Kansas’ “Carry On Wayward Son” (by theavclub)

    Not one of you told me about this.

    Shame on you.

  4. hookersorcake:

Hard Case  
It’s the usual bullshit Monday morning when she walks in. A bright eyed giggler, built on interwoven springs and tight jostling things. I’m cleaning my Smith & Wesson 686.
"Are you Hendricks?" she asks.
She has the kind of eyes that could deflower a nun from across a mall parking lot, and her words are moist with surprise. 
"In the flesh," I wink. "Get you a drink, doll?"
"Bourbon," she nods. “Three fingers."
My sphincter reflexively tightens and my root chakra lets out a small shiver that causes me to break down into an almost imperceptible funk dance.
"Rocks?" I whimper.
"No, straight up." she says. 
Downtown my penis finishes its gin gimlet, throws a twenty on the bar, and runs out the door to catch the L Train.
"I’m here because my husband has gone insane," she says.
 My penis runs into the street and is flattened by a delivery truck.
"That’s a fucking shame," I mutter.
"What?" she says.
 “Oh,” I say, “all men are the same.”
I hand her a drink. We smile and clink glasses. She takes a sip. “Do you love him?” I ask. She spits out her drink so violently it’s reduced to a subtle vapor and my thoughts get drunk in her hair.
 “No,” she says, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. “Not anymore.”
My penis picks itself up out of the gutter and dusts itself off. It sounds like we’ve got a job to do.

    hookersorcake:

    Hard Case 

    It’s the usual bullshit Monday morning when she walks in. A bright eyed giggler, built on interwoven springs and tight jostling things. I’m cleaning my Smith & Wesson 686.

    "Are you Hendricks?" she asks.

    She has the kind of eyes that could deflower a nun from across a mall parking lot, and her words are moist with surprise. 

    "In the flesh," I wink. "Get you a drink, doll?"

    "Bourbon," she nods. “Three fingers."

    My sphincter reflexively tightens and my root chakra lets out a small shiver that causes me to break down into an almost imperceptible funk dance.

    "Rocks?" I whimper.

    "No, straight up." she says.

    Downtown my penis finishes its gin gimlet, throws a twenty on the bar, and runs out the door to catch the L Train.

    "I’m here because my husband has gone insane," she says.

    My penis runs into the street and is flattened by a delivery truck.

    "That’s a fucking shame," I mutter.

    "What?" she says.

    “Oh,” I say, “all men are the same.”

    I hand her a drink. We smile and clink glasses. She takes a sip. “Do you love him?” I ask. She spits out her drink so violently it’s reduced to a subtle vapor and my thoughts get drunk in her hair.

    “No,” she says, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. “Not anymore.”

    My penis picks itself up out of the gutter and dusts itself off. It sounds like we’ve got a job to do.

  5. Full-time jobs in the United States–especially at major corporations–should be able to support a single full-time worker and their family. If it cannot, it’s un-American. If it cannot, it is exploitative. If it cannot, the company should be rejected as immoral. But no–we worship the dollar in this country, so it’s ok to ask someone to work 70 hours a week and then not give them crap for it.
  6. Monte Cristos for pennies on the dollar. It’s everything I’d dreamed of.

    Monte Cristos for pennies on the dollar. It’s everything I’d dreamed of.

  7. Guys. I feel like my whole life has led to this moment. I’ll make you proud.

    Guys. I feel like my whole life has led to this moment. I’ll make you proud.

  8. hookersorcake:

thefuzzydave:It puts da pudding on its skin or else filth-flarn-filth
By Justin Hager
This is our Mona Lisa. Our Piss Christ.

    hookersorcake:

    thefuzzydave:It puts da pudding on its skin or else filth-flarn-filth

    By Justin Hager

    This is our Mona Lisa. Our Piss Christ.

    (via hookersorcake)

  9. Wicked Good Ruby Conf

    In case you haven’t heard, I’m pleased and proud to announce Boston’s first Ruby conference, Wicked Good Ruby Conf, will be taking place this fall, October 12–13.

    We’ve already got a stellar lineup of speakers (Sandi Metz, Foy Savas, Matt Aimonetti, and others), and we’re looking to add more. 12 more, in fact, as we’ve recently added a second track to the conference.

    Are you new to speaking? An old pro? We want anyone and everyone who has something to say to send in a talk proposal. The RFP ends this Friday, so this is your last chance to speak in front of 300 attendees at Boston’s Seaport World Trade Center.

    Not interested in speaking, but you’d like to attend? Tickets are still available. And despite adding an entire second track, ticket prices have not changed. Register today!

  10. effyoufyi:

INT. NEWSPAPER EDITORIAL OFFICE, DAY

CIGAR-CHOMPING EDITOR. MACK. MY OFFICE.

"CRACKLIN’" MACKLIN REID. Chief?

CCE (Gesturing to a page on his desk). You want this in the evening edition?

"C"MR. I want it on the front page.

CCE. You got any idea what kind of trouble you’re getting yourself into, Mack? What kind of trouble you’re getting me into?

"C"MR (Unblinking stare.)

CCE. This one goes way up. All the way to the top. You naming selectmen here, Mack?

"C"MR. I’m gonna name the Selectman, Chief. The First Selectman.

CCE. Mack, I got a paper to run, here. A family paper. I can’t just print any—

"C"MR (Bringing his fist down onto the desk). Dammit, Chief, this is what the papers are for! We’re gonna get right to the bottom of this thing, the gut, the sewer, we’re gonna find the dirt, and we’re gonna expose the sonofabitch who—

CCE. Mack, Mack. Mack. How long we known each other, Mack?

"C"MR. Chief, I don’t wanna—

CCE. Long enough that you know I’m just lookin’ out for you, here. This sort of thing—this is the sort of thing that gets a man kicked off his desk. Just for… what?

"C"MR. For the roads, Chief. For the drivers. For a traffic routing system of the people, by the people, and for the people.

CCE. I’ll print it, Mack. But when they come looking for someone to pin this on—

"C"MR. Just tell them to follow the first open road to my door.

SCENE

    effyoufyi:

    INT. NEWSPAPER EDITORIAL OFFICE, DAY

    CIGAR-CHOMPING EDITOR. MACK. MY OFFICE.

    "CRACKLIN’" MACKLIN REID. Chief?

    CCE (Gesturing to a page on his desk). You want this in the evening edition?

    "C"MR. I want it on the front page.

    CCE. You got any idea what kind of trouble you’re getting yourself into, Mack? What kind of trouble you’re getting me into?

    "C"MR (Unblinking stare.)

    CCE. This one goes way up. All the way to the top. You naming selectmen here, Mack?

    "C"MR. I’m gonna name the Selectman, Chief. The First Selectman.

    CCE. Mack, I got a paper to run, here. A family paper. I can’t just print any—

    "C"MR (Bringing his fist down onto the desk). Dammit, Chief, this is what the papers are for! We’re gonna get right to the bottom of this thing, the gut, the sewer, we’re gonna find the dirt, and we’re gonna expose the sonofabitch who—

    CCE. Mack, Mack. Mack. How long we known each other, Mack?

    "C"MR. Chief, I don’t wanna—

    CCE. Long enough that you know I’m just lookin’ out for you, here. This sort of thing—this is the sort of thing that gets a man kicked off his desk. Just for… what?

    "C"MR. For the roads, Chief. For the drivers. For a traffic routing system of the people, by the people, and for the people.

    CCE. I’ll print it, Mack. But when they come looking for someone to pin this on—

    "C"MR. Just tell them to follow the first open road to my door.

    SCENE

  11. (via chainsawsuit by kris straub - a great day to still be alive)
  12. Broad necked root borer

    http://www.whatsthatbug.com/2010/07/07/female-broad-necked-root-borer-2/

  13. It’s about 2.5 inches long. The pointy thing at the back extends in and out. When it’s in, you can’t see it at all. Extended, it’s about 0.75 inches.

    It’s about 2.5 inches long. The pointy thing at the back extends in and out. When it’s in, you can’t see it at all. Extended, it’s about 0.75 inches.

  14. lefauxfrog:

“The Bruins are coming!”
(Illustration courtesy of Boston artist Joanne Kaliontzis with a nod to John Singleton Copley.

    lefauxfrog:

    “The Bruins are coming!”

    (Illustration courtesy of Boston artist Joanne Kaliontzis with a nod to John Singleton Copley.

  15. 16.00 EB? Exabytes? Yeah…force quit.

    16.00 EB? Exabytes? Yeah…force quit.